


Given Unsought

by odofidi



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys In Love, Caretaking, Everyone is totally fine, Fluff, Love, M/M, Minor Illness, Sick Fic, Sometime in season 6, Taking Care of the One You Love, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odofidi/pseuds/odofidi
Summary: When David gets sick, it occurs to Patrick that he's never seen David ill before.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 16
Kudos: 351





	Given Unsought

**Author's Note:**

> It has been mentioned to me that I share many similar traits to one David Rose, and that made me think there's probably more that we have in common. Like our tendencies to not want people we love to be around us when we're sick, because we kinda suck when we're sick. 
> 
> Takes place sometime post Cabaret but before let's say, Moira Rosé. I mean honestly, until Dan bothers to share the supposed bible timeline the writers room had (I call BS on that), then I'm going to stick with the fandom feeling of "If Dan doesn't care about the timeline then neither do I."
> 
> As always, this is not beta'ed. All mistakes belong to me.

As with most mornings, the two sat across from each other in their booth at the café. Patrick had the paper open in front of him, leaning back against the booth as he read in a position that David could only describe as “Dad mode”. Typically, David would be scrolling on his phone as Patrick read, checking Instagram or catching up on the latest gossip. Today, however, he sat quietly, picking out the different colors in the faded table top.

Patrick folded the paper down as Twyla approached and ordered his usual breakfast; two eggs, scrambled, crispy bacon, whole wheat toast, and fruit, along with a tea. He was wonderfully predictable and wholesome in his breakfast choices and David loved that. Twyla smiled as she wrote down Patrick’s order and turned to David, one eyebrow raised, waiting.

“Tea. And toast. Dry please.” David gave Twyla a soft smile. “Thank you.”

Twyla’s head cocked ever so slightly as she wrote it down before turning away from the two boys to go put their order in. “Tea and dry toast?” Patrick’s voice was skeptical. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” David’s voice was light, unassuming. Completely unconvincing.

“David.”

“What?” He glared at Patrick, losing the staring contest quickly. “I’m fine. I may have a slight headache and its making me a little…nauseous.” Patrick’s eyebrows raised and he opened his mouth but David quickly cut him off. “It’s fine. Once I have some toast I’ll take an aspirin and I’ll be fine. Honest.” Patrick looked as though he was about to protest when David shot him a look. “Drop it. Please.”

Patrick acquiesced, lifting his paper back up to continue the article he had paused upon Twyla’s arrival. David pulled out his phone and began to scroll. But as Patrick kept flicking his gaze back over to his fiancé, he noticed that David’s screen had been dimmed and he seemed to be scrolling too quickly, his eyes glazed over. Knowing the subject was closed, Patrick kept his mouth shut, but continued to eye David carefully through their breakfast.

***

In stark contrast to every other aspect of his personality, David tended to underplay how he was whenever he was under the weather. Admittedly, it didn’t happen often. In the two years that they had been together, Patrick had only witnessed David feeling under the weather once; a slight head cold their first winter together, just after New Years. He had been so quiet about his symptoms that if Patrick hadn’t caught him taking cold meds in the back-stock room one afternoon, he would have never known that David wasn’t feeling well. When he questioned David about it, David had shrugged his shoulders and insisted that it was no big deal, just a little cold.

This time, he knew it wasn’t just a cold. There was definitely something off about David. Patrick kept a close eye on him throughout the day as David moved about the store, restocking and answering questions. He moved slower than normal, his hands were not as expressive, and in moments where he thought Patrick wasn’t looking, David would wrap his arms around himself, running his hands slowly up and down his arms as though trying to imbibe more warmth to his already thickly sweatered body. 

As 5pm rolled around, Patrick moved to close out the till as David replaced any missing stock and generally neatened up. After placing the day’s earnings in the safe, Patrick walked out from the backroom to find David leaning against the counter, arms crossed, eyes closed, head down. Grabbing his keys and leather portfolio from under the counter, Patrick moved to stand next to David, placing an arm softly on his arm, running it up and down slowly. “Ready?”

David blinked his eyes open and straightened up. “Yeah, yes. Dinner? Our reservations are for 6, right?” Patrick could hear the tiniest rasp in David’s voice, as though it hurt to speak.

“Yeah, I cancelled those. Come on, let’s go home.” Patrick cupped David’s bicep and attempted to walk him towards the door, but David stood firm, halting Patrick’s actions.

  
“What? Why? We’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks. We haven’t had a date night in three months. Wh-why would you cancel our reservations?” David’s voice rose, the rasp becoming more pronounced with every word.

“Because, David. You’re sick. We’ll do it another night.”

“I’m fine!” David’s hand flailed slightly at his insistence. “We made these reservations _weeks_ ago! We’re going to dinner.”

“Okay, well I already called the restaurant and cancelled so, no. We’re not.” Patrick ran his hand slowly down David’s arm again, soothingly. “We’re going to go home, you’re going to take a hot shower, have some soup, and go to bed.”

“This is…that is…It’s supposed to be date night.”

Patrick hummed softly. “And it is. Date night. At my apartment. With soup. And maybe some Netflix if you’re good.” He smiled at David softly.

“I’m not a child.”

“I know.” David recognized that tone of voice. It was the same one that Patrick had once used to ask him if he was _in destress?_. It was Patrick’s condescending voice. David narrowed his eyes at him. “Come on. Home.”

Scowling, David let Patrick lead him out of the store and to his car. He drew the line at Patrick opening the door for him, ( _I can open my own door! I am fine!_ ), and sat, arms crossed and frowning the whole drive to Patrick’s.

***

David sat on Patrick’s couch, leaning heavily against the arm, his knees pulled up to his chest. His eyes were closed, his forehead leaning against his knees. He felt terrible. The shower had helped a little, but his throat was on fire and he felt like his ears were going to fall off his head was throbbing so badly.

The sounds of Patrick moving around the kitchen feel like sharp knives to his ears. David couldn’t help but moan slightly as he prayed for it all to be over. He should have insisted on going back to the motel tonight, sleeping off whatever was attacking his system. He didn’t want Patrick to see him like this. David knew what he was like when he was sick. To say it wasn’t pretty was an absolute understatement.

David lifted his head up, preparing to demand Patrick drop him off at the motel when Patrick appeared at his side, a mug in his hand. David lowered his legs from the couch and took the mug. “What’s this?”

“Soup. Chicken noodle. Light on the chicken and noodles.” Patrick placed a sleeve of Saltines on the coffee table next to a plate with dry toast and sat next to David.

David stared down into the mug. It was mostly broth. He had a sneaking suspicion that Patrick could hear the pain in his throat. He really should go to the motel. He took a careful sip and prayed he was hiding the grimace trying to break free. “Thanks.”

Patrick’s watched him carefully as his hand rested on the back of David’s neck, his fingers slowly dragging through the short strands. David stared down into the mug for a moment longer before he leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table.

“Too hot?”

“No. It’s fine. I’m just not hungry.”

Patrick’s forehead creased in worry as he looked at David, his fingers still slowly sliding through David’s hair. “You’ve barely eaten anything today. What about crackers? Toast?” David shook his head at each offering. The idea of swallowing around anything as rough and sharp as crackers or toast made David want to cry. The broth had been bad enough.

“You should probably just take me back to the motel. I’m just tired.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Just tired.” David nodded in the affirmative. “David. You’re sick.”

“No. No I’m just tired. Bit of a headache. I’ll be fine tomorrow.” David stood and brushed his hands against his thighs, hoping Patrick hadn’t noticed how unsteady he was. “I’ll just sleep it off at the motel.”

Patrick looked up at his fiancé and sighed. “I’m not driving you to the motel, David. If you want to ‘sleep it off’ you can do so right over there.” He pointed behind David to his bed.

“That’s not a good – “ David was cut off as Patrick stood, placed his hands on David’s shoulders and slowly turned him around. Using light pressure, Patrick steered David over to the bed.

He pulled the covers down and indicated that David should get into bed. “Come on.”

David sighed and climbed in. He laid down against the pillows and for a moment, the world was less harsh, less sharp in his head. Okay, maybe being here tonight wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Patrick pulled the blankets up around David, taking care to tuck him in gently. He crouched down, putting himself eye level with David, and carded his fingers through David’s hair. It was the most soothing feeling David had ever felt. He never wanted it to end. “What can I get you? Water? Tea?”

David closed his eyes, letting Patrick’s voice float around him. “Nothing. I just need some sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

David couldn’t see the massive eye roll Patrick produced, but could hear the sigh and slight groan as Patrick stood. The thought of Patrick’s pants being too tight for that position briefly floated through David’s head, but was chased away at the feeling of Patrick’s lips brushing across his forehead and the deepening darkness as the light was switched off.

“Sure David. In the morning.”

***

Patrick stood leaning against the back of the couch, watching David sleep. He was absolutely positive that David was going to feel equally crappy in the morning. After all it was barely 6:30 and David had been passed out in bed for a solid 20 minutes.

He walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the mug of soup, crackers, and toast that David had barely touched and disposing of them. Grabbing his phone, Patrick leaned against the kitchen counter, keeping his eyes firmly on David, Patrick lifted the phone to his ear and prayed that she would pick up.

“No give backs.”

Patrick laughed, a smile breaking out on his face. “What?”

“David said he was staying at your place tonight. No give backs. I’m doing face masks and having a _me_ night. You keep him.”

Patrick shook his head, smiling into the phone as he listened to Alexis. “That’s not why I’m calling.”

“Oh.” He could almost hear the hair flip through the phone. “Then what’s up?”

“David isn’t feeling well and I was hoping you could bring some of his stuff over to my place. I don’t think he’s going to be better tomorrow.”

“Ugh. Definitely no give backs. Sick David is the worst of all the Davids.”

“I don’t know, Alexis. He wasn’t that bad when he had that cold around Christmas. Besides, he’s so rarely sick…” He could hear her scoff. “What?”

“Rarely sick? _I’m_ rarely sick. David is the walking plague.”

  
“What?” Patrick’s brow furrowed at her declaration. “He’s been sick _once_ in the last two years…”

“Um, what planet are you living on? He had the flu last August. Food poisoning in October. The flu, _again_ in November. Not to mention all of April and his annoying little sinus infection, when I swear I almost smothered him in his sleep. His stupid humidifier kept _gurgling_ like some creepy demon in the middle of the night. Ugh. Plus, he was so whiny.”

“Um… Okay well. Can you bring a bag over? A couple days’ worth of clothes. Anything else you’d think he might want. I think…I think he’s going to be down for a few days.”

“Sure. This mask has 20 more minutes until I rinse it off but then I’ll drop it by.”

“That’s... Thanks Alexis. That’s really nice of you.”

“I know. And to show your gratitude, you get to keep David through this whole thing. He’s not allowed back here until he is 100% disease free. Thanks! See you in 30!” Her voice rang out bright before the line went dead.

Patrick stared at the phone in his hand for several moments before looking back up at David’s sleeping form.

_What?!_

David had been sick in August? October? November? April?! Patrick moved to the couch and pulled up the calendar app on his phone. How was this possible? There’s no way he wouldn’t have noticed if David had the flu. Or food poisoning. He pulled up last August and began sifting through the events that had happened. When could David have possibly had this illness and hidden it from him? He can’t think of a single day they didn’t see each other.

And then he finds it. Third weekend of the month, Patrick had been gone at a tax seminar two hours away in Oshawa. He had been gone four days. Plenty of time for David to have gotten the flu and recovered. He vaguely remembers Stevie mentioning something about payment in wine when he had gotten back, but David had shut it down so quickly it never fully registered.

Patrick moved to October, finding it quicker than the last one. Two days, small business conference. Food poisoning only lasts 24 hours. And David had eaten nothing but mashed potatoes for dinner the night he came back. He had blamed it on a hangover. Patrick had just chalked it up to David being himself.

He knew what he’d find in November. The three days he was gone to learn about the new operating system for their register. He had gotten home late, and David had vendor meetings the whole next day. He hadn’t seen him for five days that week. He remembers how much agony he had been in, how much he had missed him. He also remembered how exhausted David looked.

Okay. So that explained those times. But April. Patrick knew he didn’t have a seminar or conference in April. How could he have possibly missed David having a sinus infection for the entire month?

_Cabaret_. _Baseball_. His entire month is covered in Cabaret rehearsals and baseball practice. He and David barely spent the night together that month. And the nights they did, Patrick either fell asleep in exhaustion soon after dinner, or came home so late that David was already asleep. He never questioned how early it was, he simply curled up behind David in bed and fell asleep. He never even thought…

Patrick looked back up at David as he slept. How could he not have known about all of these times? Why hadn’t David said anything. Even on days when Patrick was gone, they had talked. Every day. Hell, even on days they were annoyed with each other they still spoke. They never went a day without communicating. It was the thing Patrick loved most about them. No matter how much David drove him insane, and some days it was an awful lot, he still wanted to hear his voice at the end of the day. Even if it was just to say goodnight.

Patrick placed his chin in his hand, leaning his elbows against his knees. He felt like he was missing this major part of David. He leaned back against the couch and stared into the fireplace. He was still sitting there when Alexis showed up 45 minutes later, a bag full of David’s clothes and products in her hand.

***

Patrick was reading on the couch and at first thought he had imagined the noise. It was so quiet, he thought for sure that it had come from the street below or in the recesses of his head. And then without warning, David moaned loudly and bolted out of bed, dashing across the apartment to the bathroom. David collapsed in front of the toilet and began to convulse with dry heaves as his body attempted to expel something that wasn’t there.

Patrick followed David, stopping next to him, crouching down and running his hand soothingly up David’s back, shushing softly, as David continued to dry heave. Patrick’s heart broke a little as tears pooled in the corners of David’s eye from the force of his heaves. Patrick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to David’s temple.

“I’m sorry.” David’s voice was so small. His body seemed to be calming down, but it had taken all the strength out of him.

“Hey, no. What could you possibly have to be sorry about?” Patrick leaned his forehead against David’s temple, one hand on David’s arm as the other raked through the short strands of hair at his neck. He could feel the heat radiating off of David and knew it wasn’t just from the exertion.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I should have gone to the motel.”

“For better or for worse, right?”

“You’re not tied to that yet.”

Patrick sighed as he stood up and grabbed a washcloth. Soaking it in cold water, he placed it on the side of the sink before helping David stand and rinse out his mouth. David never actually threw anything up, but he knew there must be bitterness resting in David’s mouth.

“I hate to break it to you,” he grabbed the washcloth and steered David back towards the bed, “but I don’t actually need a marriage license to want to take care of you.”

David hummed noncommittally as he climbed back into bed. Patrick tucked him in again, before placing the washcloth over his forehead. David sighed in contentment as the cool cloth hit his skin. He was shivering and sweating. He wanted thirty more blankets and to turn the AC on. He closed his eyes as Patrick’s fingers found their way back into his hair.

“Can I get you anything?”

David shook his head softly. “Sleep. Just wanna sleep.”

“Okay, baby.” Patrick’s voice was barely a whisper, as light as the kiss he brushed against David’s skin. “Okay.”

When David woke the next time, the apartment was pitch black. He shifted slightly and found Patrick lying next to him, on his side as though he had been watching David, his arm stretched out towards David, his fingers inches from his arm. David sighed and turned onto his side to face Patrick. He was itching to reach out and touch him, to pull Patrick’s arms around him, but knew he couldn’t without waking him. He sighed and turned away, rolling onto his other side and closed his eyes again, attempting to fall back asleep.

Like magic, a magnet, an unrelenting force, Patrick shifted in his sleep and curled around David, pulling David in tight and wrapping his arms around him, resting his hand over David’s heart. David sighed and was asleep moments later.

***

David woke to the soft soothing feeling of fingers drifting up and down his spine. Before even opening his eyes, he knew things were not better. His head still pounded, his throat burned around each little swallow, and he still felt vaguely like he was going to throw up the nothing in his stomach. But he was in Patrick’s arms so not everything was terrible.

Somewhere in the night, David had twisted back around and found himself chest to chest with Patrick. Despite the height difference, Patrick had tucked David under his chin, holding him close. Now, even though Patrick had already woken, he stayed wrapped around David, their legs folded together, as he stroked David’s back.

Patrick felt David stirring and pulled back ever so slightly, dropping a kiss to the crown of David’s head. “Morning, Sunshine.”

David hummed slightly, immediately regretting it as his throat burned. A soft cough tore through him and his entire body winced with the pain it caused. Patrick pulled back. “Here, sit up. You should have some water.” He coaxed David into a semi-sitting position and handed him a bottle.

David took a few small sips, the cool liquid soothing ever so slightly. “Thanks.” His voice was barely a whisper, rough and torn. He attempted to clear his throat, to make his voice stronger, but all he accomplished was another slice of pain down his throat. “So I don’t… I don’t think I slept it off.”

Patrick smiled fondly. “No kidding.”

“You should take me to the motel. I’m going to get you sick.”

“Well, you spent a good portion of last night _literally_ breathing on me, so I think if I’m going to get sick, that ship sailed quite some time ago. Besides,” he wrapped his arm around David and pulled him in, allowing David to snuggle deeply into his chest. “You sister said no give backs.”

David laughed ever so softly as he closed his eyes again and sunk into Patrick. “Bitch.” He took a few deep breaths as another wave of nausea swam through him. “When, when did you talk to my sister?”

“Last night. I had her bring over some more stuff for you. I figure you’re going to be out of commission for a few days.”

“Mmmmm. Thank you.” David had almost fallen back asleep when a thought jerked him back awake. “What time is it?”

“Just after 10.”

David struggled to sit up, pushing away from Patrick and forced his eyes open. “The store…”

Patrick shook his head and pulled David back down to him. “I texted Stevie last night. She’s got the store for today.” David let out a whine and attempted to protest when Patrick cut him off. “David. It’s fine.”

“You could have just dropped-“

“Stop telling me to bring you back to the motel. It’s my job to take care of you.” David made a negative noise. “I’m sorry, is there someone else you’ve found to do that that you’ve forgotten to mention?” David stayed silent. “No? Thought so. So, shush. David, we are getting married, that’s kind of how this works.”

David sighed deeply and burrowed further into Patrick’s embrace. Patrick began to run his fingers through David’s hair, pushing David closer to falling back asleep. “Hey, you should try and eat something.” David shook his head against Patrick’s chest. “David…”

“I’m still so nauseous.” David took another deep breath, praying to whomever would listen that his stomach would settle. “Please. I c-“ He suddenly bolted up from bed, pushing violently away from Patrick and all but ran to the bathroom.

Patrick was quick to follow him, crouching beside him, rubbing his back as another round of dry heaves wracked David’s body. He waited until David appeared to be done before helping him sit weakly against the shower door. David brought his knees up, resting his arms across them as he rested his head back. Tears were streaming down his face and his eyes were shut firmly closed. Patrick sat still for a moment, the bottle of water he had grabbed in his hands.   
  


“This sucks.” David whispered. “This sucks so much.”

“I know. I know baby.” Patrick uncapped the bottle and placed it in David’s hand. “Drink some water. Just a little. And then we’ll go back to bed.” David’s entire body grimaced as he took a few halting sips before handing the bottle back to Patrick. “Ready?” David shook his head in a firm no. “You want to stay here.” A nodded yes. “Too bad.” Patrick stood and slipped his arms under David’s forcing him to stand. “Sleeping on the bathroom floor is _incorrect_.” David groaned through Patrick’s laughter.

***

The knock was so soft that Patrick barely heard it. It took a second, slightly louder one for him to register that someone was in fact there. Stealing a glance at David, sleeping in bed, Patrick stood and moved to the door, a grateful smile breaking out as he opened the door.

“Thank you so much.” He grabbed the bag from Stevie’s hands and moved aside, letting her into the apartment.

“No problem. I think I got everything. Threw in some whiskey.” Patrick looked at her questioningly. “For you. I know what he’s like.”

Patrick sighed, emptying the supplies onto the kitchen table and moving around the small space, putting them away. “I wish people would stop saying that.”

“Saying what?”

“’I know what David’s like.’ He’s not some…monster.”

Stevie raised her eyebrows at Patrick. “Okay…maybe not a monster. But you know what he’s like when he’s sick. He’s so needy. And whiny. And…no you know what. I take it back. He is a monster.” She crossed her arms and smiled at Patrick as he walked towards the chair opposite the couch. “Oh come on. Are you just, conveniently forgetting what he’s like?”

“I don’t know what he’s like.” Patrick sunk into the chair with a tired sigh. “Turns out, I’ve been out of town almost every time David’s been sick. And he’s failed to mention it to me.”

Stevie sat on the couch and glanced over at David. “Wow. I…I vaguely remember you not being here the last time, but he’s really never mentioned it?” Patrick shook his head. “Huh.” She looked back over to David. “How’s he doing?”

“Okay, I think. He hasn’t thrown up in a while. Actually, he hasn’t thrown up at all. Just what looks like unbelievably painful dry heaves. But that’s seemed to have stopped.” Patrick leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I’m hoping he’ll be able to keep something down tonight. I don’t think he’s eaten in over two days.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.” She looked back at Patrick. “How are _you_ doing?”

“I’m fine.” She looked at him skeptically. “I am. I’m…”He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him and staring at the floor. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around him never telling me he’s been sick. Doesn’t help that he’s told me about 5 times that I should just take him back to the motel.”

Stevie leaned forward and tapped her finger against Patrick’s hands. “Okay, but you know that’s not about you, right?” He looked up at her, barely containing the eye roll. “Not in the way you think it is.” Patrick scoffed. “It’s not because he doesn’t trust you.”

“Kinda feels that way.”

“Look. For all of David’s faults, and we both know there are plenty of those,” she smiled ruefully at Patrick. “There is one thing David is better at than anything else, and that’s self-preservation. He doesn’t have the best track record of picking people to be with, us excluded, obviously.” Patrick laughed softly. “But, because of that, not a lot of people have been great with him in the past when he was sick. Including his parents.”

Patrick looked up at her then. He couldn’t imagine Moira around a sick person. He let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Yeah. Not long after they got here Alexis got sick. Just a bad cold. Moira tried to lock her in the room.”

“Oh god.”

“David also knows, he’s not the _best_ when he’s sick.” She glanced back over to the bed for a moment. “David is more self-aware than I think anyone realizes. He knows he gets clingy and needy. And _God,_ the whining. He was probably trying to spare you from that.” Patrick, still in his hunched over position, stared at his fiancé as he shifted in his sleep. “So you know, don’t be too harsh when you talk to him about it. He was being withholding but in that stupid way he does where he thinks he’s sparing you from himself.”

Stevie stood and walked over towards the door. She paused, turned back and grabbed the whiskey off the table. “Can’t let this go to waste.” She grinned as she walked out, careful to close the door softly behind her.

***

David sat up slowly in bed. The light in the apartment was dim, the sun barely peeking through the curtains, the only light coming from the kitchen. He looked around for Patrick, finally landing on him, reading in his favorite chair. David cleared his throat, grimacing slightly. “Hey.” It came out soft and raspy but in the quiet apartment, the sound drifted easily.

“Hey.” Patrick stood up, placed his book on the coffee table and walked over towards David. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” David smiled softly. “My throat still hurts but my headache is mostly gone.”

Patrick sat down on the edge of the bed. “Can I make you something? Toast? Soup?” He ran his hand slowly up and down David’s blanketed leg. “Tea? Ice cream? Pizza? Spaghetti?”

David laughed. “Maybe some soup?”

“Absolutely.” Patrick kissed his forehead as he stood, walking to the kitchen. “Chicken noodle? Chicken and rice? Tomato? Split pea? Minestrone?”

David knew he was just looking for the laugh at this point, but it didn’t stop him from giving Patrick what he wanted. “Chicken noodle, please.” He watched as Patrick began heating up the soup for a moment before standing and walking towards him.

“No, stay. What do you need?” Patrick attempted to halt David’s movements. David waved his hand.

“I need to stand. I’ve been laying down too long.” He walked over to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water. “Also water.” He smiled and leaned against the counter. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of me.”

Patrick hummed. “Wanna talk about how this is the first time you’ve let me?”

David swallowed thickly around a sip of water. His throat was contracting less with each sip. “What do you mean?”

Patrick moved, pulling out a bowl, ladling David’s soup in carefully. He motioned to the couch and David walked over, sitting down. Patrick placed the bowl in his lap, a sleeve of Saltines on the couch next to him and sat back down in his previously vacated chair. “Well, until I talked to your sister, I was under the impression that you hadn’t really been sick since we’ve been together. But that’s not true, is it?”

David took a sip of soup, pausing a moment to see how his body reacted. Not feeling his stomach instantly reject it, he took another sip stalling.

“David.”

“You were out of town most of the time.” He sipped the soup slowly, big spoonfuls of broth settling calmly under his skin. “There was no point.” He shrugged, pulled a cracker from the sleeve and took a mouse sized bite, testing.

“No point?”

“What could you have done, from Oshawa?” Patrick blinked at him. “Exactly. Besides…You didn’t need to deal with that.”

“Deal with what, you?” David nodded. “You know I want to deal with you, right? Kind of the point of being with you.”

David shrugged, pulling out a second cracker. “You say that now…I’m not exactly _fun_ to be around when I’m sick. People tend to…disperse. I’m…needy. And…whiny. And…Well…” he gestured to his entire being, “really gross.”

Patrick laughed lightly. “I wouldn’t use that word.” He watched David take a few more sips. “Nothing would have made me bail on you.” David refused to meet his eyes, instead choosing to stare into the bowl on his lap as though the contents held the last Versace sweater at a sample sale, and if he looked at it hard enough, it would become his.

Patrick moved to crouch down in front of David, bracing a hand on each of his knees. “Hey. I told you before. Better or for worse. You’re stuck with me.”

David nodded slowly, tears welling up in his eyes as Patrick soothed his hands over David’s thighs and knees. “It just seemed easier…less of a chance…”

“I get that. At first. But David,” he shifted to sit next to him on the small couch. “We’ve been together for two years. I asked you to marry me. What, did you think I’d take it back because you get a little extra when you’re sick?”

David shrugged. “Maybe.” His voice is tiny and Patrick knew David didn’t really believe that. 

“Also, what exactly was your plan for after we’re married? Just disappear without saying anything for several days?”

“Quarantine.”

Patrick gestured to the apartment around them. “Where?!” There was laughter in his voice. “The closet? You won’t even hang clothes in there. I highly doubt you’d live in there for a minute, let alone a couple days.” David’s face twisted in disgust at the mere suggestion. Patrick grabbed the now empty bowl from David. “More?”

David shook his head and grabbed the sleeve of crackers, pulling another one out to munch on. Patrick placed the bowl on the coffee table and leaned back, laying his arm against the back of the couch in an open invitation.

David instantly took it, shifting to lean against Patrick, fitting snuggly under his arm as he slowly made his way through the sleeve of crackers.

“I need you to know, that it would take a whole lot more than you being a little whiny and needy to make me want to leave.” Patrick ran his hand up and down David’s arm lightly, the tips of his fingers just brushing against David’s skin, causing goosebumps to flare along in their wake. David hummed noncommittally. “I mean it, David. And I hope it would take more than that for you to – “

“Never.” David cut him off as he shook his head against Patrick’s sternum.

Patrick kissed the top of his head, his left hand carding through David’s hair as he reached out his right hand, lacing it together with David’s left across their laps. “Good. I want a full life with you, David Rose. The good, the bad, the needy, the amazing, the frustrating…all of it.”

David leaned back, looking up at Patrick. “Me too.” He closed his eyes as Patrick’s lips found his forehead and let out a long deep sigh. “I need something else first.”

“What’s that?”

  
“A shower. I feel disgusting.” Patrick laughed, untangling himself from around David. “Seriously.”

***

One shower and a change of sheets later ( _Seriously, Patrick. Just burn them. Ew._ ) David began to feel closer to himself. Snuggled under the clean, crisp sheets, he laid with his head in Patrick’s lap as Patrick played with his still drying hair, a movie playing on the laptop as it rested on Patrick’s desk off to the side.

Despite insisting on _While You Were Sleeping_ ( _early Sandra Bullock is a treasure, Patrick. And Bill Pullman is a snack_ ) he barely made it to the hospital scene. Patrick leaned back and watched the film, continuing to card his hand through David’s hair as David slept peacefully in his lap. He never got tired of this, and hoped he never did. David, falling asleep on him in the middle of a movie, Patrick playing with his hair as he slept. These were the moments he treasured.

As the credits rolled on Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman’s happy ending, Patrick shifted slightly, attempting to reach the laptop without dislodging David from his lap. Instead of reaching the desk, Patrick knocked the leather-bound notebook off his nightstand, wincing as it fell to the floor.

He glanced down at David, who shifted in his sleep, rolling off Patrick’s lap and snuffled into his pillow. Free from the weight of David, Patrick stood, closing the laptop and leaning down to pick up the notebook that was lying open, face down, on the floor.

It was one of David’s. Patrick wasn’t sure why it was on his nightstand, but had a slight memory from the other night of pulling it away from David, and thus pulling David on top of him as they were in bed. Patrick smiled remembering what had happened next. It had been a good night.

Sliding his finger along the inside seem, Patrick carefully lifted the notebook from the floor, and flipped it open in his hands. The contents of David’s notebooks weren’t exactly kept secret from him, David occasionally showed him sketches or charts that he had made in their pages. But he never looked at them without David. He had every intention of closing the notebook without looking at it, when something had caught his eye.

There on the page that it had fallen open to, was their wedding.

Patrick sat back down on the bed, looking at the page in absolute awe. David had rendered his dream for the aisle they were planning on creating behind the motel. The white chairs. The flowers. Everything was there. Patrick knew David had been working on ideas, but he had yet to share any of them. Cautiously, he flipped the page to see renderings of the boutonnieres he was designing for them to wear. Flowers for Alexis to carry, for Moira. For Stevie.

He flipped another page. Tears began to fall slowly down his face as he saw the tiny words under a boutonniere and bouquet on the page. _For Clint & Marcy_.

“Not quite as ostentatious as the ones for my parents, but I think they fit better.”

Patrick startled at the sound of David’s voice. He had been so engrossed in the perfectly detailed pages of their wedding, he hadn’t noticed that David was awake. He cleared his throat of tears and quickly closed the book. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop. It fell…” He trailed off lamely.

David shrugged as best he could from his position. “It’s fine. It’s all wedding stuff anyways. I don’t mind if you look.”

“Do you want to tell me about them?” David smiled and nodded. Patrick climbed under the covers and shifted down until he was level with David. He laid on his back, David tucked into his side and opened the book.

“So some of these are obvious nos. Just me working through ideas. Yeah like that one. Bad. Move on.” David gestured wildly for Patrick to turn the page.

They laid there for a while, looking through David’s sketches, Patrick occasionally commenting on the different ideas and having 97% of his suggestions shot down ( _mmm, no incorrect… I’m sorry, are we getting married in 1994?...Under no circumstance is_ that _being played at m-our wedding…Oh my god you’re like a stranger to me. A stranger._ ). It was the most relaxed Patrick had been for days.

***

Three days later Patrick was still working the store alone. David had mostly recovered, and at this point Patrick was more than a little suspicious that he was milking it to stay home. He was due back at the store tomorrow though, so Patrick let it slide. Things hadn’t been too busy and he’d rather David get the extra rest. And if it meant he was able to get some of their tax paperwork prepared during store hours without David as a distraction…well that was just a fringe benefit.

He was finishing up the last of the closing procedures and preparing to go home when he heard the bell over the door. He stood up from his crouching position at their safe in the back, and called out to the front as he walked through the curtain. “Sorry. We’re…closed.”

David smiled from the other side of the counter. “Hi.”

“Hi. What are you doing here?” Patrick looked David over, his eyes raked up and down slowly. He was wearing the leather pants Patrick found endlessly attractive on him, and a sweater that poked at the recesses of his brain. He’d seen it before.

“Date night.” Patrick’s forehead crinkled at the response. “I made reservations at the Italian place in Elmdale.”

“You did?” David nodded. “That was very nice of you.” He smiled and moved around the counter, taking David’s hand in his own, leading them towards the door.

“My treat.” Patrick raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A thank you for taking such good care of me.”

Patrick pulled them to a stop and tugged lightly on David’s arm, closing the distance between them and placing a soft kiss on David’s lips. “No thanks ever needed. One of the many perks that come with the Patrick Brewer, Husband package.”

David grinned, kissing him again. “Mmmm. Any other perks I should know about?”

“Oh lots. But they’re doled out slowly. Might take decades to get to the last one.”

“Decades. I like the sound of that.” David turned on the outside step of the store and turned his key in the lock. They walked hand in hand down the street to Patrick’s car.

Patrick glanced at him as they neared the car. “Have you worn this sweater before?”

“Mmhmm.” They separated at the car, David walking around to the passenger side as Patrick moved to unlock his door.

He paused, meeting David’s eye across the roof. “B-13.” David’s grin was heart shattering enough, but the added little wink made Patrick weak in the knees. Made his heart stop. Made him want to live in this moment forever.

They slid into the car and started down the street, Patrick’s hand finding David’s again. Patrick pulled their hands to his chest, pushing David’s rings against his heart beat for a moment before letting them rest against his thigh. David turned to face him, a soft smile on his face.

“Decades. Definitely decades.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what's happened to me. I'm getting soft in my old age. These boys make me so incredibly soft. It's really very gross. I'm losing my edge. 
> 
> Title comes from William Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night". Act 3, Scene 1:
> 
> OLIVIA: Love sought is good, but given unsought better.


End file.
